Elevator
by Stars.Are.Metaphors
Summary: 'There are fifty five tiles in the ceiling and one of them is slightly cracked.' 'Did you really just count them all' '…No' Sam/Rachel


**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee **

**Notes: Takes place somewhere after the 'The first time'. Kind of AU as in – no Finchel, and no Sam trying to court Mercedes.**

**…**

**Elevator**

**…**

''I'm hungry.'' Rachel mutters, crossing her arms underneath her chest as she leans on the opposite wall of the elevator. Sam crosses his legs underneath him, his eyes detaining the ceiling as his lips mutter incoherent words underneath his breath. Rachel waits. Looking expectantly at him to offer her something to drink or eat.

It never comes.

''Sam…'' She wines. ''_I'm hungry._'' His gaze flickers over to her and back to the ceiling.

''…Okay…'' He retorts, his lips moving in synch. ''Twenty one – twenty two –''

''Sam!''

''Twenty three – twenty four.''

She blows out an exasperated breath, clenching her jaw as she narrows her eyes down at him. How dare he ignore her! He could've at least acknowledged her with something more than just one word. Is she that unimportant? ''I'm hungry, _Sam!'' _

Her screeching voice clashes against the walls.

''Than eat something.'' He bites back. ''Thirty seven_, thirty eight _– no, crap –'' He irritably rubs a hand over his skull. ''You see what you've done? You made me forget where I was.'' He frowns, his eyes flickering to hers as he promptly ignores her glare. ''Now I've got to start all over.''

As he looks back up, narrowing his eyes at the tiles, she has to suppress herself from uttering a growl.

Instead she sighs heavily, using the wall behind her to lean upon as she pushes herself down to a sitting position; while she does so her head relishes into falling on top of her knees and finding comfort in her structure.

This is not how she imagined spending her Tuesday night – locked up in a stationed elevator with a boy she barely knows accommodating her. Granted, she expected to be bored and exhausted. But this is not how the events should've escalated.

''Do you remember which number I was at?'' He asks her breaking the silence they're in.

Unbeknownst of his stare attached to her frame. She answers with a; ''Yes.'' Tossing her head back lightly she wonders if she should tell him. If she does, she'll never figure out if he has food in his backpack, but if she doesn't he'll look at her with his innocent hazel eyes the whole time, ensuring her to feel guilty. ''It was twenty four.'' She pathetically gives in.

He snaps his fingers like he remembers it all of a sudden and nods his head. ''Yeah that was it – twenty five, twenty six…'' He moves his head back up, stretching his legs so his ankle's lightly gracing her foot.

There he goes again, ignoring her presence.

As she leans deeper against the wall pushing her head firmly against the substation, her mind wanders back to how the world loves to toss her around and corner her right when she expects all of their tricks to be proclaimed dust.

''Twenty seven…''

…

_Twenty eight._

''…And according to you, Mrs. Thompson is guilty of all charges yet your evidence seems nonexistence.'' Twenty nine, thirty, thirty one. ''…So could you kindly explain…'' Daddy drills his stare into the sweaty man, his lips twitching contently at the sight. ''How it's possible to charge her guilty?''

''Well, um, because… err…'' _Thirty five, thirty six, _''obviously, I… um.''

She's about had enough. Leaning against her hand and counting the seconds until one minute has passed from the hour still left. It feels like eternity before the pointer finally ticks of the sixty seconds and ends a minute of her time.

Now still fifty nine minutes to go.

Rachel's always expected that her father's job would be more thrilling and entrancing, filled with more action instead of sitting in a room and asking his fellow advocate questions about his client. She expected heated battles and a judge screaming 'order, order, order' like she's seen on TV.

But it's not quite like that.

She would rather spend another four hours in her horrendous school then stay another minute during this 'take your child to your work day'. Frankly, this alone, strengthens her reasons to choose a more social job. She can't see herself behind a desk filling out papers about her client and nor can she drill out several of answers – even if she's rather good at it – out of her opponents.

The hour seems to drag on excruciating, until her father finally announces that they're done. He shakes her shoulder lightly and she's aware of the look on his face when she yawns unabashedly and stretches her arms above her head. It seems that at one point or another she's dozen off and skipped nearly the entire meeting all together.

Thank God.

He shakes his head disapprovingly, yet takes her own coat out of the closet and hands it to her while she's standing up and pushing the chair backwards. She grants him a shameful smile, putting her coat on and brushing her hair swiftly over her shoulders.

''Was it that boring?'' Daddy asks her as she walks with him to the elevator.

She shrugs in response. It was boring – extremely exhausting – and to think that she hadn't preformed anything at all during the hour. ''It was… informative.'' Rachel settles upon, grasping her purse in one hand.

He shakes his head again, this time a smile ghosting on his lips.

''I bet it was… Now wait until you see what your father's up to. It will presumably be just as informative.''

She almost groans out loud, but catches herself fast enough.

Her father is a doctor – a rather good one if the reviews of his patients counts – but there's no way they'll let her in on an operation to see the real action and she'll be forced instead, to sit in a tiny little room with coffee in her hands while she stares at the photos and artworks made by various of people.

_Boring._

''Yes it would.'' She clicks on the button of the elevator, moving up and down on her heels.

As the elevator clings and open, she turns around abruptly to bid her father farewell.

He hugs her against his chest, smiling sweetly down at her as he releases her. ''I know today was boring, but it's all about the learning process.'' She looks shocked, but goes in to say that it wasn't as boring as her face may have claimed. But he stops her with this skeptical look and her lips fall shut instantly. ''I know it was boring, don't try to spare my feelings honey.'' She rests her shoulders.

He's right. No need to lie.

''But I promise… Dad's job is _much_ duller.''

How's that to help? It only makes her not look forward to going there.

He kisses her on top of her head and releases her.

_That's just cruel. _She thinks.

When she rolls her eyes and turns around to step into the lift, clicking the first button to the garage and mentally planning ways to diminish time, it's then that she looks up and comes face to face with Sam Evans.

She furrows her eyebrows in confusion. How in heaven's name did he come here? ''Sam.'' It should've been a question but it sounds more of a notice than anything else. She waits for confirmation as she clenches her purse in both her hands and takes her bottom lip in her mouth, her tongue nervously sweeping over.

He gives her just that when he looks up, his eternal stained flushed cheeks glossing over as a halve smile graces his lips. ''Hey.''

…

''There are fifty five tiles in the ceiling and one of them is slightly cracked.''

Her head moves up, her brown eyes colliding with his green ones. Rachel clicks her tongue. ''D – did you really just count them all?'' She sounds annoyed and shocked all at once, slightly shaking her head at his indecisive look

'…No?'

He so did.

''Good God, Sam.'' She stands abruptly up, throwing her hands in the air. The thought of spending another minute in this Godforsaken lift is killing her slowly. ''We need to find a way out! We can't stay here forever and count…'' She gestures a hand above, annoyed. '_'Ceiling tiles_!''

He seems to think, looking around him for anything that could help them in this quest. But after a few seconds of staring aimlessly in an empty lift – with standing them – and her expectant look detaining his face, he settles on saying; ''How? There's no way out.''

She grunts, crossing her arms over her chest and staring back at him. Why does she even expect him to find a way out, anyway? It's not like there's a hole in the lift to climb through. ''Fine, whatever.'' She rolls her eyes, stifling the urge to scream at him. ''Just look in your backpack for some food.''

''You hungry? Why didn't you tell me that before?''

Calm down Rachel. Don't do anything that could be a nasty setback to a glorious future – say risking a prison sentence for murdering a teenage boy.

She exhales breathily, contrary. Her left eye twitching just the slightest. ''Well, do you have food or not?''

''I don't know let me check.'' He takes his backpack of the floor where he has laid it fifteen minutes ago when he had tried to open the lift door without any success and settled down on sitting on the floor grumpily. ''I've got…'' She hears rustling and her stomach instantly does flip-flops. ''…Two candy bars.''

He takes them both out of his backpack and holds one in his right hand, gesturing Rachel to move forward and take it.

She greedily does.

…

''You've never told me why you were here.'' She tells him, seating herself right next to him and taking a bite out of her candy bar.

She moans softly at her first bite. Food has never tasted more delicious than wanting it the most.

His ears must've picked up her approvals because he soon grins as he chews his own food, swallowing it down before answering nonchalantly. ''My mom finally got a job.''

She cocks an eyebrow up. This is the first time that she's heard about it. Turning her head around to face him, Rachel purses her lips. ''Congratulations, when did it happen?''

He shrugs, grasping the candy bar a bit tighter. ''A few weeks ago.'' He pauses, licking his lips as his eyes glister over the wall before them. There's absolutely nothing to look at in the four cubic room. No lines, dots or any kind of decoration that could beg for his attention. The dirt cascading across the white walls and the dirty stains coloring its blankness is presumably all that makes it a little more intruding to watch. ''I would've said it before…'' He feels the need to slightly explain his self. ''But it just, never crossed my mind.''

As he looks away and aimlessly takes a bite out of his candy bar it seems more like it did cross his mind, just that he couldn't bring himself to tell anyone. She gets it, though. He didn't want to talk about it. It's still a sour subject and kind of a taboo to speak off. No one really wants to hear the struggles of a young boy facing poverty.

She won't pressure him.

''I didn't know that your mom had any sense of Justice…'' She kind of changes the subject but soon frowns when she rethinks the words that have falling of her lips, deciding that it was highly offense of her to claim something like that. ''N – not that I think any less of her, or expect her to be inadequate of achieving an admittedly high-maintenance job.'' She purses her lips. ''Just that it surprises me.''

''I get it Rach, don't worry. I don't mind.'' He grins, swallowing around his food. ''My mom studied law firm before she decided to take a… less office like job, 'cause even though a lawyer stands in a courtroom and all that. Going into court takes place, like, _once_ in a _while_. The rest of the time is spend in an office filling shit and searching for reasons to save a client from a prison sentence.''

She knows that now, had to figure that out the boring way.

He shrugs. ''I guess a few things stuck with her.''

''Oh…''

They talk a little more, about his dad still searching for a job and about how his mother already loves hers. They talk about how much Rachel hated being here and he agrees with her soon afterwards already haven decided that an office job is nothing for him. He's more of a creative spirit and she's more of a _music-Broadway-craving-spirit_.

They decide that they fully understand each other in a certain level.

…

''That's not true!''

''Yes it is!''

''No it's not, _Sam.''_

''Yes it is, _Rachel._'' He says her name with the same under tone as she had said his, tossing her little game back her way. ''I've seen it, like, a _billion_ of times. I thus, automatically know right from wrong.''

He wants to rejoice his witty little comeback but instead mentally slaps himself as soon as the words leave his lips and realization slowly creeps up and corners him.

''You know… this statement only strengthens the whole 'Sam Evans is a dork' rumors going around.'' _Way to go, Sam. _''Yet I have to confess that I've seen the whole series until the end… _thrice,_ and if you may have not known this before – but I'm fairly capable of pin-pointing mistakes out. Which includes memorizing the things that seemed important; in say a show.''

He's a bit taken aback, but recovers his posture as he crosses his arms over his chest and shoots her a look over his shoulder. She's got her tiny feet but unbelievable long legs stretched out before her as her head is turned sideways to glance over at him. He's confused yet intruded that she watches Avatar.

It took him a while to find a girl who loves the same show as him enough to watch it at least two times. Now wait until she sees Avatar the movie, it will blow her brains out.

''Avatar is part of my life, Rachel. I'll be damned if I had this wrong.'' He continues stubbornly. ''There's no way in hell that I'd missed the part where Zuko exclaimed that his mom died.''

''He didn't.'' She neatly retorts. ''_He_ didn't say a thing… but we did find out at towards the end…''

''We found out that she's still alive, not the other way around. I swear, I have it on tape. The moment the truth came out – I was balling my eyes out, telling everyone six feet near me that Zuko still got a shot at building his relationship with his mom again… _then _I taped it down for recollections and watched it over five times again. Not once stopping with crying.''

''You cried?'' She has to stifle a laugh as she looks at his ignoramus face.

He stutters – trying to go back on his words, but failing miserably. ''Not… really… Just – I guess. I was really tired… no, I mean… it were just a few… _you know…_ I – If you call a few drops crying,'' he shrugs. ''Than, yeah, I was… Please don't tell anyone.''

This time she bursts out in laughter.

He looks offended, telling her that he's still a man and still bad-ass and Rachel suspects that Noah inflicted him with his nonsense, yet his cute ignorant personality hasn't faltered and neither has his love for fictional characters fade to bring out emotion out of him.

She likes that. It's oddly, sweet.

''I won't.'' She manages to say throughout her spur.

…

''I can almost reach it.'' Her fingers grace the ceiling. ''Push me up a little bit.'' He stands on his toes, pushing her up as much as he can.

Her fingers finally grasp the handle. She musters all the strength she has in her petite body to reluctantly force her arms to will the handle to break loose and tear it down.

''I almost got it.'' She bites out

''Hurry. I think I'm losing my balance.''

She nods jerking the handle backwards.

But instead of opening it, her hand slips off the material and her body loses balance at the motion, which leaves Sam to catch her body before she falls on the floor and breaks her bones.

She moans as lands on top of his body, narrowing her eyes and blowing her hair out of her face.

Breaking a bone is _so not_ worth escaping this hell hole.

''Well that was useful.'' She mutters from her position on top of Sam.

He only grunts in retort.

…

Sam's scared.

No seriously, he's fucking _terrified_.

For crying out loud; Rachel's freaking him out.

They've been in the elevator for maybe an hour, tops two hours. And at first neither of them really picked up on the whole being locked up in a lift that could fall any minute thingy (yeah he's seen those movies – never ends well). They were all casually and stuff, smiling, laughing, talking, trying to break out and maybe sometimes she'd throw a fit of rage at him for no apparent reason.

(Whatever.)

But this shit. This right here, it's freaking him out.

She's having mood swings and he's positive that this is some kind of disease that's been literally diagnosed as personality disorder.

He never knew she had it, but maybe she's been to the doctor for this and the doctor like really confirmed her disease, but she was kind of afraid to tell anyone because she's scared as hell to be called an even bigger freak. He's not here to judge, he understands it. The students in their school are brainless idiots, they'd do it.

But fuck it if he wasn't scared.

''We're going to die, Sam!'' She's pacing around the elevator, her hands continuously ironing her hair. ''Oh God, my life is over before it even started.'' She grabs her hair in a fist, twisting it a few times around.

He swallows.

''Rachel –''

''Ssh – I hear something.'' She moves a finger to her lips looking at the door. His eyes follow hers, cocking both his eyebrows up as he waits for whatever she heard.

He doesn't hear anything.

''Rach – ''

''Oh, God.'' She falls to the ground, cradling her knees together as she moves back and forth, her eyes roaming around the elevator. ''We're going to die. We're going to die…'' She chants. ''I – I _can't_ die. How about my Tony's, my Emmy's and the glorious moment where I prove all my peers wrong? How about flipping every one of my tormentors off?''

''Rachel I think you need to breath.''

'' – Finn will move on! He will never want me, again! Quinn will sweep over and take my man. My man. _My man.''_ He widens his eyes; it's technically her ex-man, seeing as they both dramatically broke it off in the hallways. But he won't comment. ''I will lose everyone – everything.''

He doesn't know what to do. Should he like step forward into the heat or protect himself from getting burned?

She finally cries. ''Everyone hates me! I bet that they've done this accidently.''

''Rachel, I doubt that they'd go to the extreme to torment you like that.'' He tries to put some sense into her wreck of a mind, but then her watery eyes stare at him like he's just killed Bambi and he's suddenly at a loss of words.

''You're one of them aren't you!''

''Wh – what_, what. _No! Of course not.''

''Yes you are!''

She stands up, moving against the wall to pass him. He tries reaching out for her but she slaps his hands away as she keeps on sliding to the door, trying to escape his grasp. But it's so not useful because the elevator is like really tiny and they're still so close. Just with one stretch of his arms and he's already close to encircling her waist.

''It wouldn't surprise me if you're… you're… one of Quinn's _minions_!''

This is no personality disorder. He's come to the decision that she has actually lost her mind.

''Rachel, that's absurd.'' She pierces him with this look that says; 'prove it' and he looks on flabbergast. ''Okay, Rachel, listen.''

He steps forward, but she screams at him.

''Don't touch me Sam Evans – if that's your real name – or I'll…'' Her eyes searchingly look around the lift, falling lastly at the purse in the corner of the elevator. ''I'll take my purse and slam your brains out.'' Her eyes rise to look back at him.

He stares at the fluffy purse on the floor, cocking his eyebrows up as his eyes slowly move upwards to her face.

He's asking her with her eyes; 'Really? _Really?'_

And as though she knows what he's saying she shrugs her shoulders. ''It could happen.''

''No, Rachel, listen.'' He takes that agonizing shot and walks into the heat, his hand reaching up and touching her upper arm. ''You're not making any sense here.'' She looks at him skeptical, but doesn't interfere. ''I think that being in the elevator for so long has done something to your brains… I mean, look at you, you're shaking, scared… everything your saying doesn't make any sense. Can't you hear yourself talk?''

She exhales, her eyes shifting as she looks on. He's right, she's out of control. She's losing her sanity. ''I'm just… I'm just… I'm scared, Sam.''

He sees the tears escaping from her eyelashes and somehow, he makes this large decision as he takes her in his arms slowly closing the space between them. He makes choices that could change everything between them, yet he's still inadequate of seeing what the consequences are.

Her head falls on his chest and her hands grasp his shirt tightly, nails digging into the fabric.

Self-consciously he moves his head to her hair, the tips of his lips gracing her hair as his nose inhales her strawberry sent like second nature. His body engulfs her touch into his flesh, as his lips softly mutter coherently words; ''I'm here for you.''

And that's that.

Line crossed.

…

''Sing me a song.''

They're sitting in the far away corner where she has dropped her purse. Her head is leaning against his shoulder, while he's unconsciously toying with her hair.

It's just so soft.

''What kind of song?'' He asks.

She shrugs cautiously, pursing her lips. ''Any kind of song.''

''Okay…'' He frowns thoughtfully, his fingers pausing. He suddenly gets a cheeky smile on his face_. ''In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight…''_

''Um, Sam…''

''_In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight…''_

''I meant… something else entirely.''

''You never gave me any descriptions.'' He says, smiling unabashedly. He stands up, twirling around and enlightening a giggle out of her. He reaches a hand out as he stares down at her. ''Care to join, my lady?''

She reaches her hand out, shaking her head just the slightest. ''This is really… something else.''

''I know.'' He winks._ ''…Near the village, the peaceful village the lion sleeps tonight…''_

…

''How long have we been here?'' He wonders out loud, prompting his hands next to him.

She shrugs, from her position on his legs. She's long ago forgotten about the fact that she's kind of lying on a dirty floor crawling with all kinds of bacteria's and that she may or may not catch a STD from the stickiness crawling up her thighs.

(What… it could happen…)

''Three hours approximately, I think… do you think someone will find us?''

He never misses a beat. ''Yeah. Of course. Your dads are going to search for you sooner than later and same goes for my parents.''

This withers the anxiety for all that it is.

…

''Hey Sam, did you ever even click on the emergency button?''

''…Should I?''

''Sam!''

…

''_I'll be back.''_

Rachel sits up right. ''Excuse me?''

''I'll be back.'' He says again with a deeper unlike him tone, waiting for her to pick up. She doesn't. Instead she's left flabbergast as her eyes attain his form, confusion shifting through her features. ''You know it… I'll be back.'' He tries again.

''I most certainly don't.''

He purses his lips. ''From 'the Terminator'.'' She still looks confused, waiting for him to clarify. ''The movie… with Arnold Schwarzenegger.''

''Is it a violent movie?''

He nods.

''I – I don't watch violent movies…''

''So you've never seen 'the Terminator'?'' She nods reluctantly, his eyes widen. ''Damn…'' He mutters. ''That's like a 'must see' movie. You _must see_ that movie.''

''Well, I can't say I have or else that'd be lying, wouldn't it?''

''I guess so.''

She waits for a second, a pause easing its way through before she chews her lip, looking from underneath her eyelashes at him. ''Do more.'' She tells him.

He looks confused, licking his lips as he asks; ''What?''

''More of your impressions.'' She clarifies, shrugging. ''You're really good… and it's actually, kind of funny.''

He smiles all bright like as he obeys, sealing his words with a nod.

…

''You still love Finn?''

She leans on her elbows, frowning. They've been sitting in a comfortable silence thinking about nothing much, when he suddenly brings this up.

''Where's this coming from?

He shrugs, pulling his legs before him. He's exhausted. They've been here more than five hours now and he's starting to lose faith that anybody will ever find them… and when they do find them he's scared that they'll already be consumed by all the creepy insects crawling on the floor. He's even seen a rat somewhere; he swears he saw something big and hairy walking around.

''You said – while you were spazzing around – that Finn won't want you again… so how about it, you still in love with him or not?''

''I don't.'' She states defeated. He gives her this look; it's a clash of relief and disbelieve. ''I don't.'' She says again to get her point crossed. But after a few seconds of him staring at her and her eyes shifting slowly, she gives in. ''I'm not really over him.'' She chews her bottom lip and self-consciously his stare falls to her lips. It's kind of becoming a habit. ''It hasn't been too long since we called it off, you know.''

''It's been three months.''

''My point exactly.'' She puts in. He snickers, shaking his head. ''It was just a heat in the moment reaction – I reacted a tad bit overdramatic.'' Not a tad bit, more like out of control. ''I can assure you that I'm not mustering any romantic feelings for Finn.''

''Good.'' He tells her, not really thinking about his words.

He doesn't regret saying it, though. It kind of feels useless all together to walk around his words instead of saying what he wants to say.

She smiles eventually; it's a slow smile that spreads across her face and creeps into her eyes.

The warm fuzzy feeling that illuminates his heart has him smiling back.

''And how about you… you still love Mercedes?'' She stares ahead of her, like she's deliberately avoiding his gaze. Fearing that his eyes might tell her differ than she wants to hear.

''No.'' He takes it to him to look at her face as he says so.

And slowly like the time artificially eases its way through their existence she turns her head to look at him, licking her lips and uttering a; ''Good,'' for measurement.

…

''Did you hear that!'' She frantically asks, jumping up as she slides to the wall, balancing her weight and standing up.

He looks around him, follow her pace as he also stands up, brushing the back side of his jeans as his stare falls to her petite body next to him.

She's pretty.

''What?''

She squints her eyes, jerking backwards. ''There it is again! A bang!''

''Shit.'' He mutters. ''Do you think the elevator is about to fall down?''

At first she raises her eyebrows, her lips slightly agape as she slowly turns her head around to look at him with unreadable expression on her face, but as the seconds tick by and a frown deepens on her face, she bites her lips in thought. ''What if it is?'' By the time he's looking back at her the thought of getting splashed to death has already invaded her brains.

Fuck it. What has he done?

''This is it. This is _really_ it. I'm going to die in an elevator, my body will be eating by rats and no one will ever know that I've been here. The world will be searching for my body for days – maybe even years – until they finally find the signs of dried blood at the bottom of the lift. Soon with tests and modern technique they'll figure out that their star in the making – the one who could make Lima famous – died horrendously in an elevator.''

Look at her; he's scared that one day she'll choke on her tongue. ''You came up with all of that in less than a minute?'' He wonders out loud when she finishes her rant.

She exhales, finally. He thought for sure that she forgot how to breathe.

''I – ''

She gets cut off by a thump enlightening its way throughout the elevator, loud enough for even him to hear.

''Don't. Move.'' He chokes out. He moves his hand slowly over the wall to grasp her little palm, holding it tightly between his as they come in contact. And spontaneous this exalted feeling bites into his palm, frantically moving throughout his stomach and nestling within his heart. Clawing at his skin as it glares before his eyes.

He exhales a large breath to settle the motion in his heart.

…

''Oh Rachel!''

''Daddy?''

''Baby…''

''Dad?''

Turns out that the noises were made by the police trying to break into the elevator.

Rachel lets go of his hand and he instantly feels like something is slipping away. It kind of leaves him empty and hollow. And subconsciously he reaches his hand out to grasp hers again, but as soon as he gets hold of what he's doing in front of whom, he pulls his hand back.

She lunges forward to her fathers, both enveloping her into a hug.

He looks away.

''I thought that I would never see you guys again.'' She says against their chests, clamping onto them for dear life. ''It was so scary.'' She moves her face from their shirts so she can look at their faces. ''We heard noises that sounded like breaking ropes, so both of us were positive that we'd fall into a deep pit and get smashed to death – and if that didn't happen, I'd presumably die of dehydration.''

''Good thing we found you before any of that could take place.'' Berry White tells her soothingly.

''And before you could truly go insane.'' Black Berry humorously quips up.

She nods. ''I almost did, but Sam…'' She turns around to look at him and their eyes cross for the littlest of seconds. She smiles. ''He was there for me.''

When he steps forward she subconsciously takes one step to meet his grace.

''Well, then it's a good thing you weren't alone.'' Black Berry continues, yet he seems to be long forgotten as Sam takes her hand in his.

And the second that seemed so little drags on forever.

Forever seems so short right now.

''You wanna, like, go see a movie sometime. You could see Avatar in 3d with me.''

She laughs, it's haughtily and warm and how her sound captivates him – he could really see himself falling in love with her.

''I'd love to.''

**…**

_**The end.**_

**Song: 'The Lion sleeps tonight' **


End file.
